Techno Boyfriends
by walkingdisastersharkchild
Summary: Noiz had a lot of things to do. Like ... sort out that stack of papers sitting on his desk for half a year. Deciding on whether it was pizza or pasta for lunch today. Not rebuild a robot. And then not dress said robot. Or look after it. Or maybe possibly kind of fall in love with it. Noiz/Clear AU
1. Chapter 1

**Cross-posted from tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

Noiz isn't entirely too sure what drags him out to Keisen, but he wanders through the rubbish and the grit, occasionally kicking over scraps of metal, in hopes of finding something halfway decent. It's a fool's errand, he knows, but he might as well do something since he's stuck in this backwards town.

For the most part, he ignores the big warehouses. The small amount of gossip he gathered prior to venturing this way told him that several questionable groups gathered here and did quite questionable things. Not that he knew what said questionable things were of course (but he did because it's not his fault that that one drunk at the bar has looser lips than his mother did).

If there is anyone staring at him they ignore him. Or just take his meandering through the waste as him being some poor lost soul looking for a place to die. Picking up a lead pipe with a crudely welded spike attached to it, Noiz turns it over in his hands. Well, he best be slightly armed, should any of those try to test his being there.

Noiz spends the next few hours, gathering things he likes the feel of into a small pile near the entrance. It's a long process, and the day passes by, slipping into a comfortable orange glow that kind of restricts his little adventure by a lot.

He doesn't really debate one last run around the closest warehouse. He just does it. It's not the biggest warehouse around but it's the most open, so he's able to have quite a good look in without actually entering.

It's by the last window when he hears a commotion by the entrance. Noiz curses his luck (okay so he_knew_ he shouldn't have stayed another ten minutes but come on, he can't help it), and ducks in through the open window, mindful of the shattered glass on the other side. Voices grow louder and closer and Noiz slips behind the nearest mass of boxes.

Well, he tried to, but he trips over something and lands with a bang, air whooshing out of him. The voices outside go quiet, and he resists the urge to whimper because goddamn, even he'll admit that hurt. Felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He waits until footsteps indicate movement, before looking at just what had almost gotten him killed.

Noiz really didn't expect to almost be literally punched in the gut but he was almost relieved he could still be surprised by things in this world. Pushing himself up, and successfully tangling a finger or two in exposed wires and probably cracking the casing of whatever this thing was under his knee, he had to position himself to let the best light catch the face of this _thing_.

The entire right temple was shattered, exposing a large eyeball and too many wires to consider the thing salvageable. Several fingers were missing as well, and the left leg looked like it had been torn off in the heat of the moment. But, it was an alpha model, no doubt about it. A few models he had seen at the border of Platinum Jail were shiny things, far too sparkly to consider trustworthy. But this one was older, and he could confirm it.

Standing up and dusting himself off, Noiz reached under the metal man and with an 'oof', managed to roll it over. Brushing the dirt off the base of the head, Noiz squinted to read the serial number. His eyes widened a fraction, and he turned the upper body back over carefully.

"No shit."

It really was an older model. He had seen people claim to own them and had heard of people bidding almost offensive amounts of money to get them. But here, at his mercy, was an original alpha model.

Clicking his tongue, Noiz wondered just how he could get the thing home without drawing too much attention to himself. Even if he couldn't get it up and running again, stripping the model for parts would rake in a nice little fortune. Or, he could use whatever he could get out of it to make his own little robot. Heck, he could strip the memory board and sell the information on.

Noiz quickly peered out the window, checking once more for any signs of activity, then looked back at the model. It was worth more than the pile of scraps he had at the entrance of Keisen. Worth at least triple the amount. Maybe more.

It was getting dark enough he could carry it back. He could use the backdoor to the old shop and stash the thing behind the crates. The old man who owned the shop rarely visited, and the only traffic he had these days were people looking for information.

Deciding that he was taking it back, Noiz crouched down. Poking the serial number once more, he smiled to himself. This was such a good idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Cross-posted from tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

By the time Noiz had made it back to the shop, he was ready to just strip the robot for parts and kick the rest of it in the bin. It was so damn heavy and he was at least 99% sure he now had a permanent hunchback because of it.

Ever so gracefully, he dropped the thing in the back of the shop, just past his personal workspace, and behind a rusty, old car that had no hope of being saved. Noiz ignored the sound of cracking plastic, instead sighing in exasperation as it managed to tangle itself in seconds. It was worse than when the old man forgot to put away the cords the other week and he had to spend an hour untangling them all.

Kicking a few of the larger shards of plastic under the car as he walked away, Noiz couldnd need a new case, which would cost an arm and a leg to find, and then there was trying to find a new board to replace the one in its back that looked completely fried. And then there was either looking through Keisen again to find the missing fingers and leg, or ordering them online. What else needed replacing?

Noiz paused, rag stilled over the belly of the thing. His eyes trailed down ever so slightly, to where someone had the decency to cover the lower regions of the robot. It hadn well, there was only one way to find out.

Abandoning the rag, Noiz carefully popped open the buttons of what remained of the robotYou have got to be shitting me. the creator of these things was an absolute pervert. Who gave a robot something like that? It looked like it could strangle him. Or at least rip him apart. Who would even let that thing be stuck in them?

Clicking his tongue, Noiz had enough courtesy in him to button the pants up again. He knew hed leave them be. He didnt too sure about. He knew there were a lot of potential buyers for whatever information was on this things memory drive. The parts themselves were expensive too; it was high quality shit that were only really available in Platinum Jail if you knew someone.

But on the other hand, if he fixed it up, he a top quality one too. Also, if what these things were capable of was also true, itd have to sleep on it. He wasnd need to head out to Keisen again. Which meant het friendly of course. They were on surprisingly good terms, all things considered. Hed send the guy a message first, just to check if it was okay to head down in the next week. An alert on his screen told him there would be a drop-off in three days. Typical.

He sent the message anyway. He could always see how he went fixing it up. And if he had more parts at least, heNoiz? You here boy?s appearance.

**Noiz made me effort to reply, only averting his eyes. The old man had been his caretaker of sorts for the past few years. Welcomed him into his home and let him work for him whenever he felt like it. His door was always open to Noiz, even though Noiz had taken residence in the small apartment above the shop. **

**Nodding once, Noiz cast one more look at the robot once the old man turned his back. He swore it stared back.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Cross posted on tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

It isn't until a little over a week later that Noiz vaguely remembers the broken doll by his workstation. He'd been too busy working on a private order for one of his clients to really make an effort to return to Keisen in the last few days. Plus, the old man had taken a nasty fall only three days prior, leaving the business in his rather incapable hands.

For the most part, he'd coped, but any sort of motivation to file the papers left him once the blue light of his screens hit the cracked shell of the robot. Noiz crouched down beside it, fingers ghosting around the open area of the eye. At least the most important parts were salvageable. He wasn't too sure he'd ever be able to reconnect the eye perfectly, and the ear was another matter all together, but he figured he could do it.

And yet, he still had the niggling feeling of just how much he would earn back if he stripped it for parts or sold it. Not that Noiz was strapped for cash of course - his family, whilst estranged, did leave him a small fortune in an account that has never been touched, and there was his unsavoury line of work to consider too.

But, cash was cash. Vaguely, Noiz started typing at his screen, typing into various threads on how much a bot like this one was worth. As he settled on his swivel chair, the responses were almost instant, with people asking from all around what the serial number was. Pushing himself over to the bot, he leaned down again and carefully turned the head, frowning as he read the little line of numbers there.

Back at the screens, he typed out the digits. His response was almost explosive, people calling bullshit on him finding a model of such a make. Clicking his tongue as he scrolled through various people giving him prices ranging from a few modest thousand into close to a million, it did nothing more than fuel Noiz's desire to fix it up. Eventually though, of course. He still had the order to fill out for a friend of a friend and well …

Just before he was going to flick the screens off, one last response caught his eye. Noiz recognised the avatar immediately, and frowned at the line that followed:

— Found yourself a personal vibrator?

Noiz flicked the screens off after that. He was really not in the mood to deal with snide remarks from _that_ guy. Bad enough he managed to kick his ass in a friendly game of Rhyme _again_ but now he was following his usage? It was like he had a stalker, when he was pretty sure the roles were reversed only the other year when Noiz himself was slightly obsessed with kicking the other guy's ass.

Scowling, Noiz kicked the nearest tool away, realising his mistake when there was a loud crack that echoed through the shop. Swearing loudly, he quickly moved to assess the damage.

"You are turning out to become more trouble than you're worth," Noiz muttered, although knew he wouldn't get a response. He had successfully managed to crack whatever remained of the bot's shoulder, exposing the metal ball joint and a serious amount of wiring.

Swearing again, Noiz stood, turning a piece of the shell over in his hands. It was weird. The outermost layer was soft, just like skin (no duh, he told himself, it was only supposed to blend in with humans), and the next layer down was ridiculously strong. But not that strong, he noted, as with a small amount of interest he tried to piece it and successfully passed through three layers. Fourth layer was the toughest, and had the weirdest texture. It was rough and bumpy, just like plastic you'd find before it was cultured enough to be made into something.

As he moved to see if he could fit it back in, the bell at the front of the shop rang, followed by a soft voice calling for him. Chucking it on the pile of papers next to his computer, Noiz left to see what the old lady wanted. He'd need to see if he could get a substantial amount of that made. He'd probably have to replace the entire casing with the sheer amount of damage.

Any real thoughts of the bot left him when the old lady smiled in that weirdly motherly way of hers which always managed to make him hurt just a little, and presented him with lunch. She must have noticed the way he frowned when he realised it wasn't pizza or pasta, but some weird rice bowl, because she merely laughed to herself. He still wasn't used to the type of food around here and it showed when he picked up a piece of meat with his fingers, earning him a slap to the back of the hand.

"You know you can't live off of pizza like that, young man. You need to eat real food. Or you'll start to waste away and then where will we be?" She chided as she pinched the skin just above his hip, as if that was emphasising his point. If anything he'd put on a bit of weight in the last few months.

Noiz merely glared at her, but took the offered chopsticks with a short 'thanks'. He dug in without a moments notice, ignoring the sigh from the old lady. He hadn't realised how hungry he had been. Well, he'd only taken a break about half an hour ago, he'd been working all morning, after all.

"Noiz, slow down. You'll choke you know."

Noiz grunted in response, but did so nonetheless. It wouldn't be good to give the old lady a heart attack. Her husband would never forgive him. And then he wouldn't be able to work here and use their space whilst they filled out the smaller orders.

The old lady babbled about the old man's condition whilst Noiz ate, with him offering a small noise of acknowledgement every so often. It wasn't until the bell at the door rang that the old lady stopped. Customers rarely came past, if anything ordering over the phone. Both Noiz and the old lady looked towards the front, with her exclaiming in surprise and Noiz merely sighing.

Well, he certainly wasn't expecting to see _him_ in person anytime soon. His day was steadily getting worse. Just what he wanted. Leaning against the nearest desk, Noiz merely frowned as the newcomer came towards him with a cheery smile unlike the other month.

"Noiz, it's good to see you."

"Aoba," he greeted as cordially as he could manage. _Sly_, he greeted inwardly, noticing that distinct glow was gone, replaced by amber eyes that shone.

His day was going to shit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Cross posted on tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

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Noiz spent the next few minutes scarfing down whatever remained in the dish the old lady provided, ignoring any small talk between her and Aoba, who was not so subtly sending him pointed looks.

If it were up to him, Noiz would retreat back into his workspace and hide there for the rest of the day. He really didn't want a confrontation with Aoba, of all people. Their relationship was strained anyway, what with Sly coming out every so often and taunting him like nobody's business. And Aoba apologising every damn time it happened, which Noiz guessed this untimely visit was about.

"Aoba, you're good with your hands, aren't you? You should help Noiz out some days whilst my husband is recovering."

Noiz twitched at that suggestion, whilst Aoba waved it off. He didn't need an extra set of hands around here. He was coping just fine, thank you very much. Just because Aoba was the delivery boy did not mean he was able to tell a spanner from a wrench. Noiz had quite a hunch that Aoba was not that talented.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Counting to ten in his head, Noiz promptly shrugged off any conversation directed towards him and went into the back of the shop. He heard the old lady gripe about his manners before yelling her farewells. Suspecting Aoba had followed suit, Noiz let out a long sigh of relief. The less people he had to see today, the better.

Promptly busying himself with making a list of what he needed to do over the weekend - involving a trip to Keisen again -, a loud bang behind him had him jump six feet in the air (which he would forever deny after because there was no way he, Noiz, would be afraid of something as small as a noise). Turning around to find out what dropped, Noiz merely frowned at the apologetic look that was being sent his way by one person he really didn't want to talk to.

"Sorry about that."

Noiz merely whipped back around and shrugged, because as long as what was dropped was picked up, he really didn't care. "'s fine."

"Are you angry at me for something? I know that sometimes the other guy harasses you but -"

"Stop apologising, dammit," Noiz scowled, sending Aoba a nasty look, "who gives a shit if he comes around here? I don't care."

Seeing that pained look cross Aoba's face had Noiz sigh in frustration, gripping his head with one hand. "Sorry, sorry," was all he mumbled. He really didn't know how to handle these situations. Why did he always get into them with _him_ around. Noiz really wanted Aoba to just leave.

"No, it's my fault, I'm -"

"Don't apologise," Noiz interjected, but knew Aoba would finish his sentence.

Aoba's lips pulled into a soft smile. "Sorry."

A derisive snort left Noiz, but he just plopped into the nearest chair, shaking his head. It wasn't that he had a problem with Aoba, or Sly, it's just that he'd never been as close to the former. Growing up, all Noiz had known about was Sly. The kid would pop up whenever he wanted to and, being a highly impressionable teenager, Noiz had followed him along without a thought.

Then when he'd walked up to Sly one day after catching him outside, he'd been met with a rather angry look and found out it was Aoba. And Sly was merely a personality (or as Noiz had begun to suspect over the years, just one of them). Noiz was almost as hurt with that information as Aoba was knowing that Sly had potentially killed another person's innocence.

Now he just avoided them both, but Sly always found a way to get at him. Aoba claimed that whenever Sly was running rampant, he couldn't remember a thing. But there were times when he seemed to know what happened. Either that or he was getting very good at guessing what was going on.

"So, what are you here for?"

"I came by to see you. A note was left on the fridge to say 'hi' to you."

"You're your own slave, you know that right?"

Aoba smiled, in that way of his that was always just so tired. "Not all of us are Mr. Perfect, after all."

"Ain't that the truth."

Noiz merely looked away from Aoba's pointed gaze, and couldn't help his eyes falling on the bot. He didn't react as Aoba stepped closer, completely taken by the sight of the broken robot. Aoba crouched down, in exactly the same position as he had the first time he'd brought it home, and gently ran his fingers along the bridge of the bot's nose.

"Noiz … where did you find this?" The sheer awe in Aoba's voice had Noiz rolling his eyes.

Clicking his tongue, Noiz moved to crouch down beside Aoba. In a smaller voice, he answered, "Keisen."

"You went out to Keisen? By yourself?"

At Noiz's continued silence, Aoba sighed to himself. "One of these days, you're gonna get yourself killed."

An almost bitter smile warped Noiz's features as he responded. "No one will miss me."

Tense silence followed, as Aoba clearly seemed to choose his next words carefully. "Are you going to patch this up then?"

Noiz's lips quirked at the change in conversation, but was thankful nonetheless. He offered a small nod in regards to Aoba's question, and let Aoba move the bot as he liked, taking in the damage with continued awe. He was probably like that when he first saw it, just in awe that something like this even existed (and was found by him, of all people).

From the corner of his eye, Noiz watched Aoba, who was absolutely fascinated by the robot in front of them. The way Aoba was mumbling to himself, material needed and probably the time it would take to repair the bot, Noiz had to rethink just how gifted Aoba might have been. Sly had always left things to Noiz to mess with, claiming he had no need to fix things when Noiz was around, but Aoba seemed to know what to do.

When Aoba turned to him, asking for a pen and some paper, Noiz obliged with increasing curiosity, the corner of his mouth quirking in amusement when Aoba all but snatched the offered materials and began furiously writing.

"It's an old model. Really old. You'd have to remove the casing completely to repair it, so you'd have to find a new mould …"

Aoba mumbled to himself as he wrote notes, leaving scraps of paper over the areas with severe damage, with small questions almost to himself on how to repair it. Noiz frowned at the sudden amount of paper being used and placed over the bot, before huffing to himself - successfully blowing a few pieces away.

Stopping suddenly, Aoba looked over at Noiz in that overly apologetic way of his. Opening his mouth to apologise, no doubt, Noiz merely shook his head.

"I need some help, I think. To get this thing up and running again."

Aoba flushed, pleased with himself, before offering the pad of paper back to Noiz. Looking through what remained of the notes, Noiz mumbled out a sort of invitation.

"I'm heading out to Keisen in two days. Be here by 8am sharp."

It was an invitation, in the purest Noiz fashion, which had Aoba laugh and agree to be there on time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Cross posted on tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

On the day of heading out to Keisen once more, Noiz waited as patiently as he could manage. He may or may not have arrived earlier than agreed, and thus battled the cold weather on his own. Noiz shifted from foot to foot to keep warm, not minding too much that it was growing closer to 8am.

He was fine with going to Keisen on his own, even though he had advised his contact that another person may be joining him. But, he didn't bet on it. Aoba had always had been in poor form in the morning, and Noiz used to just leave him be.

"Noiz!"

Perking up, Noiz looked to his left, a smile almost picking up his features until he saw the person walking beside Aoba. Noiz didn't bother to hide the scowl as the duo came closer, and glared back when Koujaku greeted him with such a look.

For his effort, Koujaku looked just as displeased to be there as Noiz looked to see him. No amount of mediation from Aoba was going to quell the animosity between them.

"He can't come."

Aoba looked positively displeased, and went to argue when Noiz cut him off once more.

"I'm not saying this as I don't want him to be here - which I don't," Noiz shot Koujaku a very pointed look, "I'm saying this as my contact only knows of two people going into Keisen. Not three."

"Well can't you contact your … contact?" Koujaku waved his hand angrily, as if ushering Noiz off.

Noiz went to open his mouth to retaliate, but decided against it. The look Aoba was giving him was not worth it.

Sighing in resignation, Noiz turned away. "I can't just do that."

Koujaku clicked his tongue, clear annoyance on his face at the answer. Tense silence fell over the three of them, as Noiz waited for someone to break it. He was not going to be the first.

"I'll go."

Noiz and Aoba looked at Koujaku in surprise. Huffing, Koujaku felt his cheeks warm as he tried to explain himself.

"Aoba, you said that you were probably going to have to do a lot of heavy lifting -"

Aoba cut in, clear anger in his voice. "I'm not delicate, Koujaku."

Backtracking, Koujaku held up his hands in defense. "I know, I know. I'm saying, you and Noiz go in and find what you need and I'll … come in after Aoba comes back out. Or something like that."

"As long as Noiz is in Keisen, one of us can go in and out, right?"

Corner of his mouth quirking in amusement, Noiz sent Koujaku a sidewards glance. "Who knew you'd be able to bend rules, old man?"

Koujaku snarled in response, but held his tongue as Aoba pushed past him. "If we don't get started we'll be here all day. Let's go, Noiz."

Grinning as Koujaku merely flailed in the background, Noiz allowed himself to be dragged through Keisen's gates. Despite feeling several sets of eyes on him, Noiz didn't seem to mind.

And that was wholly because for half a minute, he had seen that flash of gold in Aoba's eyes.

Eventually, Noiz took the lead, as it became clear that Aoba had no idea where he was going. Aoba stuck close to Noiz for most of the way, looking back and forth at the piles of rubbish and abandoned utilities.

"Hey, Noiz?"

Noiz hummed out his response, hunching his shoulders when Aoba stepped a little too close for comfort. He swore he felt a hand press against his back, but blamed it on Aoba losing his balance.

"Are you okay?"

Clicking his tongue, Noiz ignored the question. He hated that question. Walking a memorised path, Noiz shoved his hands deep in his pockets, and increased his pace. They were getting close, finally.

Behind him, Aoba hurried to keep up, and was trying ever so hard not to trip over his own feet. In an exasperated tone, he finally called out, "Noiz, where are you going?"

Sending one glance over his back, Noiz sighed quietly. "There's a warehouse ahead."

"That's where we're going?"

"Yep."

Aoba fell quiet once more at Noiz's confirmation, before calling in a small voice, "He's not a bad guy you know."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Noiz merely stopped short, and turned on his heel. "Aoba, I don't care." He ignored the way Aoba nearly collided into him, and just insisted on being a rather difficult person.

"I'm just saying, you don't have to go off every time you see each other."

"I really don't care. And why aren't you giving Koujaku this talk too?"

Aoba narrowed his eyes. "I did. And he acted the exact same way as you are now." Pausing, Aoba smirked as a thought seemed to pass through his mind. "You two are very similar, you know that?"

That finally did it for Noiz. "Fuck you, Aoba," he spat, then stormed off, reaching the warehouse in no time.

He ignored Aoba's insistent calls as he opened the door. Wincing as the doors squealed in pain, once it was open enough he slipped inside.

"Noiz, where did you go?"

Placing his hands on his hips, Noiz took a few moments to himself, counting under his breath slowly, before he walked back to the door and opened it wider. Aoba didn't seem too upset that Noiz had walked off, instead brushing past into the warehouse, eyes widening.

"Is this where you found him?"

"Him?" Confusion coloured Noiz's tone, which had Aoba laugh lightly.

"The robot." Obviously, Noiz thought, as he looked away.

"Let's just get on with it," he puffed, pulling a flashlight out of his coat pocket. Noiz held it up high and began to slowly walk around, scaring a few mice in the process.

Aoba followed him closely, muttering how he didn't realise they'd need one, when Noiz passed him his. Before Aoba could protest, Noiz fished another from inside his coat, smiling as Aoba gaped at him.

"I know you, Aoba," was all he said, as he headed off in a different direction.

"We're looking for fingers, by the way. Or anything that resembles a leg. Body parts, y'know."

"That sounds terrible!" Aoba's voice echoed through the warehouse as he exclaimed loudly.

Noiz shrugged. "Well, it's missing them."

"I know, but …" Aoba trailed off, and didn't voice any further complaints as they searched the area.

After two hours, Aoba's coil sprang to life, which had Aoba jump and fumble to answer it. Noiz drowned out Aoba talking to Koujaku, as he came across the leg he was looking for. It was in far better shape than the rest of the robot, and Noiz had to wonder how it had been separated.

"I'm going back. Koujaku will be here soon."

Receiving no response from Noiz, Aoba left, turning to look over his shoulder once. Noiz felt his gaze linger longer than it should have, and then it was gone.

It would have been far easier for him to do this on his own. He knew that. That way he would be able to focus on collecting the bits and pieces for the robot sitting in the back of the shop, than having to sit through a Spanish Inquisition that was surely going to come from Koujaku.

Noiz sighed to himself when he heard the loud footsteps from outside, and made an effort to stand. Koujaku came into view, looking a little dustier than Noiz remembered.

"Did you get lost, old man?"

Koujaku made no effort to respond, instead opting to just throw the light out over the far corners of the room. Ignoring Koujaku in response, Noiz picked up the leg and tossed it towards the centre of the warehouse.

The sound of metal scraping concrete surrounded the both of them, as Koujaku looked up in surprise. Continuing his search, and ignoring the way Koujaku continued to peek over at him, Noiz found several of the missing fingers and a few pieces of casing.

Steadily, the pile in the centre of the room grew, and Noiz continued to ignore the way Aoba and Koujaku moved in and out of the room.

Whilst Aoba tried to make small talk with Noiz, Koujaku ignored his existence right back, if anything grumbling under his breath about doing 'brat's work'.

As it grew later and later, Noiz finally made a full circle around the warehouse, and called it. Koujaku looked over from the opposite end of the area, and sighed in relief.

Gathering the pieces into smaller bundles to tie together, with twine that Noiz once again pulled from his coat pocket, he and Koujaku avoided drawing too near as they worked. Once securely tying whatever they could together, and shoving the rest in pockets, much to Koujaku's chagrin, they began to move out.

The walk back was far quieter than when Aoba had joined him on the way to the warehouse, and Noiz appreciated it. Until, of course, Koujaku opened his big mouth.

"What are you to Aoba?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Koujaku's tone was terse, and left no room for arguing.

"He's the one who got me the job at Heibon. That's it."

"What about Sly?"

That drew Noiz up short, and his pace slowed significantly enough it drew Koujaku's attention.

"That's none of your business," Noiz hissed, throwing a glare back at Koujaku. No, it most definitely was not. His relationship with Sly was something only they knew about.

"It is my business."

"Are you his boyfriend?"

It meant to be a stab at Koujaku, but instead it had him splutter in embarrassment, nearly dropping the metal in his arms. Such a reaction had Noiz pause, before he lowered his voice and slowly repeated the question.

"Are you his boyfriend?"

"What? No! That's insane! He's my best friend and -"

Noiz suddenly laughed, and shook his head in disbelief. "It's not uncommon for best friends to fall for each other, you know."

"I haven't fallen for anyone."

"I never said you did."

"You fucking -"

Koujaku was never able to finish his sentence, as they finally reached the entrance to Keisen, where Aoba was waiting as patiently as he could managed. Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as he saw Noiz laughing to himself, and Koujaku red in the face.

"What's … going on?"

Noiz grinned in response, and started his sentence as innocently as possible. "Did you know that Kou -"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Koujaku interrupted, shaking his head enthusiastically.

"O… kay …" Aoba eyed them both, before shrugging it off. "Shall we go?"

Koujaku stormed ahead, leaving Noiz to chortle behind him with Aoba following up in the rear. Aoba tried to call for Koujaku to slow down, but it did very little, short of Noiz laugh harder.

"Noiz, what did you say to him?"

"Absolutely nothing," Noiz commented, repeating the phrase Koujaku only spilled moments before.

It did, however, have Koujaku stop and turn around, glowering as Noiz continued laugh to himself. Noiz was almost beside himself with laughter, as Koujaku couldn't even stare Aoba in the face. Clearly, their previous conversation was still fresh in his mind.

Aoba seemed rather annoyed at the drag in conversation, and instead directed his attention to Noiz, grinning in a way that had Noiz worried.

"So, what are you going to name him?"

"Name who?" Koujaku chimed in, voicing Noiz's question (although he would never admit to it).

"Noiz found a robot," Aoba answered happily, smiling as the frustration on Noiz's face was starting to show. They had decided not to tell Koujaku what it was they were actually looking for in the warehouse, thinking there was no way Koujaku would go along with it.

"Oh, that's coo- wait what?"

Noiz chose to ignore Koujaku spluttering in the background about carrying robot parts. "I'm not callingit anything."

"I think you should," Aoba murmured, after the conversation dissolved into silence.

Noiz clicked his tongue in annoyance. "And why would I do that?"

Aoba huffed, "because, Noiz. What if, when you repair the robot, it asks what it's name is?"

"That's a bridge I'll cross when I get there," Noiz said, ending any further discussion. And he was right. If, the robot somehow managed to wake, even after the extensive damage it had sustained … and asked for a name … he would figure it out later.

Anyway, who gave robots names?


	6. Chapter 6

**Cross posted on tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

Apparently, Aoba named robots. He'd taken to calling it "Clear", and Noiz couldn't figure out that little smile when he pressed for an answer. Why 'Clear'? It didn't make any sense to him.

So, he sat, until the sun was long gone - along with Aoba and Koujaku. Noiz sat beside the robot that had been dubbed "Clear", messed around with parts here and there, and wondered why.

It wasn't until his coil went off that he bothered to move away from it. The name that came up was from his contact, which had him heave a sigh in response. Setting the coil to loudspeaker, he continued milling about.

"What do you need?"

A deep rumble sounded from the other side, and there was a certain level of annoyance that had Noiz grin. "Why were there three of you this morning?"

"Needed the company."

"We agreed -"

"I know what we agreed to," Noiz cut in, effectively causing the conversation to cease.

All he could hear was the faint sound of breathing, and Noiz set his tools down to pick his coil up once more. Lodging it between his shoulder and ear, he sat back down. "Anyway, did you need something or is this just an excuse to hear my voice?" He hoped Mink could hear him smirking.

He probably had, judging by the way he heaved a sigh. "I heard you found a robot."

Noiz raised his eyebrows, concern building at where this conversation was heading. "Oh yeah I suppose I did."

"In one of my warehouses." Mink's tone didn't betray a single emotion, and Noiz's worry increased tenfold.

"Yep."

"I'd like to have a look at it."

Clicking his tongue, Noiz chose his next words carefully and slowly. "It's not in the best condition to be looked at."

Another pause followed. Noiz had hoped the line had dropped out and he wouldn't have to hear one of Mink's famed requests. However, he was wrong and dreaded the next words.

"Repair it into a condition you see fit, so that I may have a look."

"Would you like me to roll out a red carpet too, or …?" Noiz trailed off, anger seeping into his voice.

"You - and any of your friends - will have full access to Keisen. We will help you in any way possible to speed up the process."

It was a bargain that was tempting, but Noiz knew better. "I'd need to get into Platinum Jail for most of the parts."

At Mink's apparent refusal of continuing this barter, Noiz continued. "I'd need to get parts from a recent version of the robot. According to 'experts', there are very little differences between versions.

"If you want it up and running, I'd need a once of the new ones."

Noiz was getting really tired of the extended silences on Mink's behalf, and opened his mouth to make a snide comment. Mink cut him off. "We'll be in touch."

"Wait - oh for fuck's sake," Noiz snarled as Mink hung up on him. Slamming his coil down on the workstation beside him, Noiz grumbled to himself about Mink's manners. He was getting tired of being treated like a child by that guy, and with each passing day the treatment was progressively worse.

Standing and stretching, little groans left Noiz as his joints popped and clicked. If Mink thought he was such a child then how did he explain his joints making him feel like an old man?

It took Noiz exactly twelve minutes to realise this is probably why Mink continued to treat him like child. It did nothing to change how he acted, regardless of just how much he began to notice it.

Instead, he plopped himself on the robot's chest, minding the rather dangerous piece of metal - that vaguely resembled a rib - poking upwards. Amazed the casing didn't crack under his weight, Noiz poked and prodded the damaged areas. The strength of the casing was amazing and Noiz flexed what he could.

"What even got to you?" he wondered aloud, as after his messing about with it, the casing looked as it had. Nothing Noiz had done had damaged it any further. It was almost surreal.

As he stared down, that's when Noiz began to notice. Covering the damaged eye with one hand, Noiz stared into the face of the robot, and noticed the rather unconventional appeal. It was something in the way the dim lighting of the workroom fanned over the robot's face, but it deepened the lines of his lips and the curves of his cheeks and for a moment Noiz was actually attracted to the broken robot.

And then he noticed, just across the chin, two little moles. He thumbed the spot, at first thinking it was dirt but he soon realised it was actually part of the robot. It made him laugh that someone had taken time to add such a small detail to such a thing but …

"Clear," he mumbled without thinking twice about it. Moving his hand from the damaged eye, he cradled the robot's head in his hands. No, not 'the robot'. It was called Clear.

"Clear," he said, louder this time. "I'll fix you. I promise."

It was as if Clear smiled up at him when he said that, and Noiz truly thought he was going mad.


	7. Chapter 7

**Cross posted on tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

Whilst waiting on Mink to get his ass into gear was not something Noiz was happy about, he did it. Noiz waited as patiently as a twenty-one year old could muster, fiddling with bits here and there until he had not only pulled apart but then put back together one of his little robots at least six times.

To be honest, Noiz wasn't sure if he should even be here. Here being outside the once grand walls to Platinum Jail. It had been quite some time since Platinum Jail was exclusive (two years, eight months and three days to be exact). Right now, even if the locals had started to move in, it still wasn't entirely safe. Keisen was a much nicer place compared to Platinum Jail anytime of day. At least Noiz was sure that in Keisen he was going to get shot and then mugged, not just mugged and left to drag his sorry butt home.

Mink had said he would be allowed to come along, as he claimed he didn't entirely know what Noiz needed. Which was utter bullshit because Mink was surprisingly knowledgeable about a lot of things, and had often pointed Noiz in the right direction (when pressed of course because the man wouldn't speak unless spoken to).

Just as Noiz began to remove the top of his little robot to mess around with it once more, his light was blocked. He tensed, instantly, because for one thing he had let his guard down entirely (and he could almost hear the old him laughing at him). But an all too familiar smell soon wafted around him, making him slightly dizzy, and Noiz frowned up at the giant of a man.

"You're late."

Mink was completely unfazed by Noiz's tone, having finally got his attention, moved past Noiz and continued past the walls. Scurrying to follow, Noiz shoved the little robot into his pocket and ignored the amused looks of Scratch's members. At least Mink had the sense to bring some sort of threatening look with him, although Noiz was definitely more afraid of Mink than Tattooed McBeard walking beside him. Guy looked like his tattoos had come to life with all that facial hair. It was kind of gross to be honest.

"Do you know where these robots would be?"

Increasing his pace so that he was now only a few steps behind Mink, Noiz lowered his voice. "Centre of the Jail where the tower was. Apparently there have been recordings of the robots still being active there."

"And they shouldn't be I take it?"

"After Toue being overthrown, technically no."

A rather unimpressed snort left Mink. "Can't even use a failsafe properly."

Noiz didn't bother responding. He didn't want to get into the technicalities behind the mess that was Platinum Jail. Although, he hadn't actually had much of an active role during what had happened (he was still trying to pin Sly down and well that was an experience in itself), he had heard bits and pieces here and there. What he was doing was kind of maybe getting into the place at least four hours late to haul Aoba's injured ass out, and then walk around until the wee hours of the morn picking up scrap to sell off later. Maybe. No one can prove he was doing that.

Aoba apparently knew far more about what happened than anyone else but he refused to speak about it, only mentioning that his family was involved and hey, maybe there was a mass experiment going on the citizens of Platinum Jail. Who knows. It sounded like some bad comic Noiz was entirely committed to when he was at the tender age of thirteen.

All Noiz knew at that moment though, was that they were about to walk straight into an active robot and he was not looking forward to it. Pulling back far enough, Mink only had to give him one look to understand, and they stopped, just as the bot came around the corner.

It gave them one hard look, for good measure, and Noiz kind of had to kickstart himself to not fawn over that face because it was missing those two moles that he had grown attached to as he was tending to Clear's face.

Mink knocked him over the head, mumbling something about "now is not the time", before charging head on at the bot.

"Don't break it!" Was all Noiz shouted as he saw two men happily whack the bot over the back of the head.

According to his research any sustained injury apart from the robot's own doing was quite easy for the bot to repair. Noiz merely shook his head as the fractured skin of the bot knit itself back together and one of the guy's with a bat tried hitting it again.

"Just hold it down!"

Fishing in his pocket for that damn little robot, Noiz appreciated that Mink actually took notice of him. Reattaching one wire, Noiz watched the little bot jumped to life in his hands. Walking up to the now really aggressive robot (who looked a lot like Clear it was almost startling), Noiz merely frowned.

There were no ports for him to attach the wires to, and Mink's men were really struggling here. Sighing to himself, Noiz - carefully - reached out towards the bot, gripping its jaw in one hand. "Open wide," he muttered, before shoving the smaller bot inside.

It squeaked at him and called him a rather offensive name, but it's internal wires shot out and well the Not-Clear robot was not expecting that. Mink's men had their arms full as the thing thrashed about until it got its arms free, and proceeded to run away. Without thinking, Noiz dashed after it, ignoring Mink's calls. There was no way he was going to let it get away, not in this life.

Thankfully, the effects of Noiz's bot had started to kick in, as soon the robot was limping around corners, trying to lose itself in the Jail. One of it's eyes was swivelling in its socket when it caught sight of Noiz, and it opened its mouth, jaw wordlessly moving. Noiz thought for a moment it was actually crying, and he felt kind of bad (wondered too if Clear would make that kind of face). Taking a few steps towards him, it's knees finally gave out and it collapsed on its side, staring up at him. Convulsing a few times, in a last ditch effort it nearly managed to rip Noiz's toy out before the light of its eyes died out.

Hoping he hadn't caused the bot to commit its own form of shutting down, Noiz pulled his little bot free, letting it flash the collected data up at him.

Finally aware of his surroundings, Noiz realised he was incredibly lost. And also incredibly exposed, as it felt like a hundred pairs of eyes were staring at his back. For a fleeting moment Noiz thought he was going to die, but the familiar thunk of boots had him slap himself on the cheek and stand up.

Grinning quite smugly at the disgruntled look on Mink's face, Noiz motioned to the curled up bot. "I present to you an alpha."


	8. Chapter 8

**Cross-posted from tumblr and ao3**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

Since recovering a still functioning alpha from Platinum Jail, Noiz was pleased to say he hadn't made much progress on fixing Clear. What he had managed to figure out was most of the hardware of the stupid robots, as the alpha was laying in pieces scattered around the back of the shop. Key parts needed to replace Clear's more damaged areas were of course left closer, because he knew he'd end up losing something of importance otherwise.

Picking up one of the hands again, he flexed the joints, tugging them every which way until he was satisfied. It was a strange thing to be so utterly fascinated by these machines, he was sure, but there was something about them that had grabbed his attention in the last few months.

Sure, he knew his way around deconstruction and reconstruction (he didn't have a part time job in a junk shop for nothing), and he did have Sly to thank for that spark of interest, but he'd never really noticed the finer things. The little robots he relied on for whatever needs were simplistic. Their internal hardware was nowhere near as complicated as these alphas, even if he had thought he had customised them completely. To be honest, it made Noiz feel rather inferior in skill.

Setting the hand down once again, he leaned back from Clear. But, despite his grievances about the whole thing, Noiz had to admit he liked the challenge. Not many people were able to get their hands on an alpha. And to rebuild it too … Noiz honestly had the opportunity of a lifetime at his fingertips.

People who responded to his original forum were calling his bluff, but he provided photos and the occasional video (with redirected location and tracking, of course, just in case). Those people were literally eating out of his hand now, and so many were willing to throw millions at him for it. For Clear. It was almost too tempting.

Mink, however, was a person he wanted to keep as a friend, so Noiz turned down every offer so far, which only made those rich offer more. Noiz wondered if Mink would like to see Platinum Jail completely removed, but never asked. He still didn't understand what Mink's interest in Clear was, and waving something like the demolition of that place would no doubt spark his interest.

Out of habit, Noiz pressed a hand on Clear's chest. He was overthinking it once more. Noiz couldn't remember the last time he ate, or how many hours he'd slept. His deadline to produce results for that memorable trip to Platinum Jail was still hanging over him, and all he'd manage to do was strip a robot. Giving a self-deprecating laugh, he finally stood.

He needed a shower, something to eat, maybe a nap if he felt like it. Did he feel like it? Noiz wasn't too sure, but toddled in the general direction of the small room in the far corner of the shop. His hand still burned from where he'd touched Clear but he ignored it as much as he could. Noiz knew he was getting too attached to Clear, and in case something happened, he couldn't allow himself to.

Stripping, Noiz turned the shower on and stepped in without even considering the cold, squeaking when the water hit his skin. Old pipes groaned in response to his insistence on "would you hurry and warm the fuck up already" but eventually there was a lukewarm flush on his feet and he stepped back in.

Humming something he heard on the radio earlier (he recognised the band as something Aoba was particularly fond of), he went through the mechanic process of scrubbing himself until he was pink and raw. There was just so much dirt and grease and this weird fluid in those stupid alphas on his skin, and Noiz had a brief moment to wonder if any got into his crack.

It smelt kind of funny too, and it had a weird consistency. Noiz wasn't too sure to what to make of it, and part of him felt he really shouldn't ask those on the forums. He was bound to make a fool of himself if he expressed a genuine curiosity in what the fuck this fluid was.

When he had pulled the alpha apart, it was thinner towards the head, and thicker towards the feet. Noiz had assumed it was a replacement for blood, as they were supposed to blend into society after all. But it was just so … sticky. Gross.

Finding a particular amount on his elbow and wondering how it ended up there, he swiped it off with a finger and held it up out of the water. To be honest, he did jokingly suggest to Clear - not that Clear could respond of course but he was a great listener - that it was the robot version of spunk and well … looking at it now …

"Oh my god!"

Noiz jumped exactly six feet in the air, fell back and landed on his ass on the concrete. Pretty sure he not only cracked his goddamn pelvis, Noiz was pretty sure he'd never be able to walk again. But then he remembered what was on his skin and well he's still not sure how he managed to get back under the water.

"Are you fucking with me?" he hissed to no one in particular as he tried quite desperately to get rid of that sticky feeling.

A string of very choice words left him, all relating back to "who the fuck thought this was funny". Noiz was 99% sure someone somewhere was laughing at his misfortune at finding out just what those stupid alphas were full of and oh god he felt kind of violated.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he dared leave the shower but he did and changed into something clean so fast he was pretty sure he'd win gold for it. Staring at the work clothes, Noiz just left them. There was not much left in him to be able to deal with that right now and he could still feel the goddamn robot jizz on his elbow - and how did it get there in the first place?

Glaring at Clear and the alpha as he passed by, Noiz did not feel like returning there anytime soon. Deadlines be damned, just looking at the fluid here and there made him feel sick.

Mink rang the moment he'd stuck cold pizza in the microwave and Noiz wasn't sure how he was supposed to explain how he figured out robot's could probably fuck (he didn't, of course, but he had half a mind to let Mink know. Just in case Mink was into that sort of thing of course).


	9. Chapter 9

**Cross-posted on tumblr.**

**I don't own DMMd**

* * *

There was always some kind of movement in his field of vision. Be it a flicker of light or a flash of something the mechanics in his eyes recognised as blond, it was there. A bowed head? he once pondered, but then that begged the question why and his circuitry just wasn't able to keep up.

A muted noise filled the background and he just could never quite discern what it was. It wasn't Dye Music. No, that long and painful sound had been another time ago. It was a whirring noise, just above his right temple and it came crashing through as he would suppose a human would compare to being hit by a ton of bricks. Not that he could really compare the sensation as he had been hit by a ton of bricks, but the comparison still stood.

There were no eyelids to help him sleep, but he tried. He wanted to flex his fingers, move his legs - start the auto repair system up once more and try again. What was he doing in the first place? Could he remember?

White lines passed over his field of vision as he tried desperately to remember the last few hours. Was it hours or days? Maybe months? The interface he so regularly relied on was gone, and he just didn't know.

Is this what humans feel like when they're scared of the unknown? It was a heavy feeling, and his throat constricted. But it shouldn't have. There is no need to breathe for someone the likes of him. Why was he trying to force air down his throat when it wasn't a necessity? If anything that made him more concerned. He knew what he was so why was he trying to act like a human?

A heat suddenly developed somewhere deep in him, and if there had been a sensation of limbs it was soon gone. All noises stopped and that light finally left his eyes. Freedom, he thought. But it was hot. Like he was being swallowed alive by flames (which had almost happened too, he did remember).

And then there was pressure. Like being prodded and pricked back at the lab, fully conscious. He wanted to tell whoever it was to stop the intrusion. That feeling of being back with those men and their sick ways terrified him in a way his system couldn't handle and he was blanching, trying to move limbs that weren't there.

Why weren't his limbs there? A scream tried to force it's way out of his vocal box but he found it was removed. Where had it gone? Who removed it?

_Why why why_

All these question begged more and he wasn't able to use any to find an answer. There was nothing in him that tried to whittle it down to something most likely and for once, he felt like a human. A scared, little human, unable to hear and see.

It was disgusting and terrifying and finally he felt something in him react. He couldn't tell if it was a hand or a leg or even just moving his neck he was able to move. That light went back on in front of his eyes and something dark and ugly passed underneath it.

A human, he realised, and he just wanted to kick and scream, for how dare that human touch him. They did nothing since the incident, except returned to their original duties of looking after Platinum Jail. Residents left them alone and in turn they did the same. Who was this person and why had they done this?

"-, looks like it's gonna - fix your face -" A voice, distinctly masculine and (as his brain whorled to catch up) containing a barely noticeable foreign accent, swam in and out of his ears. Had he left Japan? Where had this person taken him?

"Might just - take it off - heat might melt the -"

Was he awake? Was this truly reality? Maybe they had a forced simulation still buried in their otherwise dormant files and it had activated. How should he react? He couldn't, could he? There were no hands, no feet. Pushing whatever remained of his eyes to the edge, there was nothing but leaking joints. Should he cry? He felt like he should. After all, this was the end.

"Just another moment, - fixed right up -"

The human was just mumbling to himself now, and slowly but surely he was only catching a few phrases, a few words, a few sounds. And then there was silence. Nothing. He heard nothing but the own silence in his head and his thoughts and it truly was the end. Why was he deluding himself?

If he had lips he would've given the human a scathing smile. Might have even congratulated on bringing one of them down. It was not a feat many could claim, after all. Deciding to close off whatever systems before that human could get his dirty hands on his eyes, he simply released what he hoped sounded like a sigh.

And then he died.

* * *

Beside the alpha, linked with wires and tubes, was another. An older version whose chest expanded with air, before falling back in time with that gentle rhythm. It's hardwire deemed it more human, and it rejected the foreign consciousness of the newer alpha. It was a silly, trivial thing in the long run, but the old model tried to speak with the new before it made that final decision. Tried to make it understand that there was no harm. That it would be safe if only it was allowed to look. See the world since it had last had functioning eyes.

In what it deemed to be a heart, the old model knew that the alpha would never have agreed. With skin now feeling and eyes now working, it felt that fluid supposed to resemble tears out the corners of its eyes, and run towards his ears. A strange and abnormal feeling, that although it was sad that the other was gone, it thanked him. Thanked that young alpha who didn't want to die.

Maybe the human will try to remake you too, it thought, as rough hands ran along his cheeks and an aggressive voice wondered if he wired something wrong.

One day, maybe, it mused, and finally lifted those heavy lids to see a different kind of world.


End file.
